


Relax

by KivaEmber



Series: Wine Cellar [10]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Male!WoL - Freeform, Miqo'te!WoL - Freeform, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Stormblood, Pre-Patch 4.2, Romantic Fluff, slightly cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 13:29:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13659975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: With so many adventurers flocking to Ala Mhigo in the wake of its liberation, WoL finds himself with nothing to do and is incredibly bored because of it.Or;A domestic look into WoL and Aymeric's relationship involving erotic literature and blowjobs.





	Relax

When the Garleans were ousted from Ala Mhigo, the Eorzean Alliance had to step into certain roles in the power vacuum that followed. In the absence of a central governing body or even a merged military faction to establish order in the uncertainty that followed the fighting, the Grand Companies plus Ishgard took up that burden. In a weekly rotation, each Grand Company and Ishgard fulfilled the role of guards, patrol, reaction force and rest, supported by local Ala Mhigan Resistance Forces who followed Lyse.

It wasn’t the perfect solution, but it worked.

Kind of.

Simply put after the liberation of Ala Mhigo everyone’s forces were _stretched_. With the City States spreading their forces between their personal protection, the reinforcement of Baelser’s Wall _and_ establishing a forward headquarters at Ala Mhigo, there were some duties they simply couldn’t fulfil. This resulted in a large influx of adventurers pouring into Ala Mhigo who took up the low-level duties of monster extermination and supply runs with gutso. It did mean another hole for money to bleed through, though, which was another thing in short supply.

War was expensive, after all, especially ones involving reconstruction of infrastructure.

But hey, those worries weren’t Aza’s. Those were the Eorzean Alliance leaders’ (and Alphinaud’s) issues to solve. His worries tended to be the more material, physical sort such as monsters menacing the fledging Saltery at Loch Seld. An issue easily solved with application of violence and skill.

The Saltery, after all, was a recent source of jobs for adventurers too. Anticipated to become a source of revenue to fuel Ala Mhigo’s reconstruction, a lot of money was being poured into its security and hiring. Only local, to the chagrin of many foreign adventurers, but there were no shortages of monsters needing to be killed in the surrounding lochs. Oddly the Garleans hadn’t been too bothered about the monster presence exploding in this area but from what Aza gathered Garleans didn’t view salt as all that valuable.

That or they had a source in Garlemald that was more cost effective to mine than importing it from Ala Mhigo, which, fair.

In short, there were a lot of adventurers in Ala Mhigo these days. A fact that Aza wouldn’t mind except, well, it meant there wasn’t much to _do_. All these adventurers taking the more exciting monster hunting jobs, and with the title of Liberator hanging over his head, would-be employers were leery of saddling Aza with ‘grunt work’ despite him insisting that he was 100% okay with moving crates for _free_.

Honestly, sometimes fame was overrated.

* * *

 

“I’m so bored.”

Aymeric didn’t look from where he was supervising the cannon drills over the Lochs, “You’ve said.”

“I haven’t done anything in _two days_ ,” Aza groaned, slumped over the battlements as he watched the Eorzean Alliance forces mill about below. There were a mixture of Bertha cannons and the Maelstrom variant lined up ready to fire – some sort of ‘familiarisation exercise’, if Aza remembered rightly. The cannons, despite having a similar base design, had critical differences in utility and maintenance, as one type was made to penetrate the thick hides of dragons and the other to cause maximum collateral damage against ships.

“I thought there was some issue over at the Saltery?” Aymeric asked.

“Yeah, there _was_. But someone else snapped the job up,” Aza grumbled, “And I’m apparently too _overqualified_ to do easy supply runs or errands. Overqualified!”

Aymeric made an odd noise like he only just managed to stifle a reply.

“I even told them I’d do it for _free_! I mean, Gods know I have enough gil to make a house out of the damned _coins_ , what do I need pocket money for? But no, they keep saying I’ve ‘done more than enough’ and that they ‘couldn’t _possibly_ trouble me with such grunt work’! I want to do grunt work! I want to! Why won’t anyone believe me when I say that?”

“Probably due to the fact that they’re awed by you,” Aymeric said dryly, looking unruffled at Aza’s dramatic wailing, “Granted, that awe would wane if they spent more than a handle of hours in your presence-”

“Hey!”

“-but in their eyes, you’re a living legend. They are not going to ask you to chase off an infestation of rats or transport crates when just last week you slew the Primal Lakshmi in the Ala Mhigan Palace.”

“That was a group effort,” Aza protested, “And Arenvald helped a lot, but _he_ still gets jobs.”

Aymeric gave him a look that he recognised as the ‘By-the-Fury-you-are-so-dumb-but-you’re-handsome-so-I-forgive-you’ stare, “Arenvald hasn’t liberated two city states, killed dozens of Primals, become King of the Azim Steppes-”

“Khaagan!” Aza interrupted, “And it’s nothing to brag about, really, because I got it by beating up a bunch of Xaela. Plenty of adventurers have done that.”

“The point being,” Aymeric said, “Is that Arenvald hasn’t cultivated a reputation yet, though the Lakshmi incident certainly laid the foundations of it. You have been doing fantastical things since you arrived in Eorzea.”

“That is a blatant falsehood,” Aza grumbled, “I spent a good few weeks doing low-levelled mercenary work.”

“Where you retrieved the Sultana’s crown from thieves and fought an Ascian single-handedly?”

“What- I- who’s been telling you that stuff?” Aza frowned, “No, look, it wasn’t as heroic as it sounds.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I…” Aza paused, trying to think of the most unflattering way he could describe his Ul’dah escapades, “I, uh… well, okay it’s exactly as it sounds. _But_ I had back up from Papashan! From the Sultansworn!”

“Mmhm.”

“ _And_ that Ascian only lost because he… uh…” Aza paused, “I actually don’t know why he lost. In retrospect he seemed suspiciously easy to beat.”

“That aside,” Aymeric said, “You have a reputation. Perhaps wrongly, the commonfolk think that there is a standard that needs to be met for you to take up a job.”

“A standard?” Aza considered this, “Well, I mean… I guess I can see that. But even when I tell them I have no standards, they still won’t give me anything.”

Aymeric’s response to this was a pointed shrug of his shoulders.

“Ugh,” Aza sulked for a few minutes, watching the soldiers below run through the last part of their dry drills, before the live firing began. “Well, how about _you_ give me a job, then?”

“What?”

“A job, Aymeric. A job,” Warming up to the idea, Aza turned to Aymeric with a smile, “Something fun! Like, I don’t know… do you need a monster to be hunted down?”

“Ah, no-”

“Something to be gathered? Supplies? Hides? Meat? Guess I could do plants at a stretch but I am a casual botanist…”

“Aza, I don’t-”

“Or bandits. Does Ala Mhigo have a bandit problem?”

“No, the adventurers-”

“Oh, right, of course they’d hustle in on that stuff. Well, I’ve been working on my blacksmithing, so I guess I could go over the Temple Knights’ equipment…”

“ _Aza_ ,” Aymeric cut in exasperatedly, “Stop. Don’t do any of that.”

“But…” Aza pouted, his ears drooping and tail tucking low, “I want to do something…”

“How about taking this time to relax?” Aymeric suggested, his attention waning towards the cannons below, “When was the last time you willingly took a day or two off?”

“Why, just… um…” Aza paused in thought. Well, alright, he fought off Lakshmi last week, then the weeks before that was Ala Mhigo’s liberation, and the month prior to that was the Doma liberation and the Azim Steppes Nadaam, and the month prior to _that_ was the Alexander business, and the month prior to _that_ …

“Oh,” Aza said, “Huh.”

“Exactly,” Aymeric nudged Aza’s shoulder, “You have the spare key to my quarters. Go and relax. Before a new world crisis sweeps you off your feet.”

“Well, okay…” Aza said slowly, half expecting just that to happen in the next few minutes, “I’ll take a break.”

“Mmhm.”

“You’ll tell me if anything happens?”

“I’m sure the Scions will inform you of anything relevant to you.”

That wasn’t a yes, Aza noted with a frown, but he didn’t call Aymeric on it.

“Alright then…” Aza took a few slow steps away from the battlements. Aymeric was looking down at the cannons. He could hear the soldiers below yelling the beginnings of the live drills. “I’m going now then.”

“I’ll see you after the drills are done,” Aymeric said over his shoulder.

“Okay,” Aza said, taking another few steps. Nothing happened. He took a few more confidently. Still nothing happened. “See you later, handsome.”

Aymeric lifted a hand in farewell, and Aza hurried back to their quarters, half expecting the sky to fall down.

His walk back was utterly uneventful.

Huh.

* * *

 

The problem with being used to constantly working that when he had free time… Aza had no idea how to spend it.

Well, no, that was a lie. He knew how to spend his free time with other people, but by himself he wasn’t sure. Usually if he found himself in between jobs he ended up getting whisked up into other people’s drama (Hildibrand), taking on a second job (Post Moogle) or resisting Felyx’s attempts to drag him into the cutthroat world of crafting (he didn’t care how profitable it was he was _not_ going down that rabbit hole of insanity).

Aza sighed and lowered the book he had been reading, resting it on his chest as he stared up at Aymeric’s ceiling. Distantly, he could hear the staccato rumble of cannonfire and he wondered if, maybe, it counted as relaxing to jump on the next airship to Cartenau and participate in the Frontlines. Sure, he ended up getting dogpiled by every adventurer in the area so they could brag about knocking the vaunted Warrior of Light on his ass, but surely it was more fun than… loitering.

His gaze dropped to the armour neatly stacked up next to the dresser and instantly dropped the idea. He was far too lazy to get changed now.

Picking up his book again, he rolled over onto his stomach with a heavy sigh, finding his page. It was an interesting book at least, though _very_ blasphemous by Ishgard’s previous standards. It was, from what Aza had read so far, historical fiction on Saint Shiva and her love of Hraesvelger and it was _remarkably_ well-written. The romance was so fleshed out and sweet and made Aza a little teary-eyed in some parts… but it also had some intensely erotic parts that somehow made an Elezen/Dragon pairing _not_ weird. If Aza had any curiosity on how Saint Shiva and Hraesvelger ever had sex, it was now well and fully sated.

“Oh, Shiva…” Aza sighed as he finally reached the part where the heroine agonised over how Hraesvelger would live on in grief without her, “If only you could have become a dragon. I bet that would’ve been a nice ending.”

Shiva seemed to agree. As he read on, now becoming more and more absorbed in this romantic drama, the story changed from what was known as historical fact. Through a long, arduous quest which Shiva took in secret from Hraesvelger, she managed to change her form into that of a dragon. There was much joy in the end – and very detailed, explicit dragon sex too – and Aza felt a bittersweet kind of emotion when he finally shut the book.

If only such a happy ending actually happened.

“Hmm…” Aza turned the book over, studying its worn cover. He dug this out of Aymeric’s recreational reading pile, hence his surprise when he found out how ‘blasphemous’ it was, but now he was curious to see what else was in there. He wouldn’t have thought this to be to Aymeric’s tastes.

Sliding off the bed, absently noting the lack of distant cannonfire, he meandered over to Aymeric’s little book pile. It was sat on the edge of his desk, which was otherwise consumed by an unholy amount of paperwork and documents, and he picked up the top one.

“Let’s see… oh? ‘The Miqo’te Huntress and the Elezen Knight’?”

Aza stared at the title for a long moment, then picked up the next book. This was one ‘Storms of Camaraderie’, but when he opened a random page it was damn-smack in the middle of a threesome scene that was obviously written by someone well-experienced in it. Aza was _delighted_.

Who would’ve thought that Ser Aymeric of Ishgard was a lover of _erotic literature_?

He stared at the small pile of books sitting so innocuously on the desk… and promptly scooped them all up into his arms. Tail swishing with amusement, Aza ambled back to the bed and dumped the books on them, before hopping lightly onto the mattress and making himself very comfortable.

Looked like he found something to occupy his free time~

* * *

 

Aymeric had very very very _very_ good tastes in erotic literature.

Aza was enraptured by the Miqo’te Huntress R’shaalyo, a fiercely independent spitfire of a woman that honestly charmed him within the first few pages. It helped that he connected with her instantly, with her desire to explore the world instead of being tied down to her tribe to live out her days as one of its huntresses. It only took a chapter before she encountered the roguish Elezen Knight Hauvax during one of her hunts, where he had been separated from the rest of his men due to an ambush by bandits and ultimately became lost in the forest where R’shaalyo lived. It was a very compelling story, and Aza barely noticed the sun slowly setting as he eagerly read how a passionate yet tempered romance blossomed between the unlikely pair as they tried to return to Hauvax’s home.

He just got up to the first erotic scene, actually, where they finally realised their love for each other (ten chapters! Aza had practically been groaning from frustration with how long it took for them to _finally_ get a clue) when he heard the door to the room open. His flicked his ear towards the noise, immediately knowing it was Aymeric.

“Hey,” he said distractedly, not lifting his gaze from the book in his hands, “How were the cannon drills?”

“Fine,” Aymeric sighed, sounding weary. There was a noise of him walking about the room, followed by the creak of leather and metal as he stripped off his armour, “Apologies it took so long.”

“S’fine,” Aza replied, finally putting his book down after ear-marking the page he was on and looking over his shoulder to see Aymeric tugging off his breastplate, “You okay?”

“Mm,” Aymeric set the armour down on the dresser, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck, “Yes, just a little tired. Don’t mind me.”

“Hmm…” Aza sat up and started cleaning up the mess he made of the bed. The books were carefully and neatly put on the bedside dresser, and by that time Aymeric had stripped down to his breeches, “Hey, hey, come here.”

Aymeric glanced over at him curiously but obeyed, his exhausted expression lighting up into a small smile, “What are you up to?”

“Nothing naughty, don’t worry,” Aza said, patting the now-cleared spot on the bed next to him, “Lie down here. I’ll give you a massage.”

“Hmm…” Aymeric definitely looked amused now, pausing only briefly next to the bed before obediently lying down on his front. Most likely he was trying to figure out what Aza’s angle was – it was no secret he tended to use his massages to sweeten suggestions and the like, “I feel like I should be suspicious.” 

“Hush, I’m just in a good mood,” Aza immediately straddled the back of Aymeric’s thighs once he was lying down on the bed, pressing his palms against his lower back and slowly smoothing them up. He was as tense as a rock, he mentally noted, starting to gently knead into the worst of the knots between his shoulder blades. 

Aymeric replied with a noise that was barely decent and Aza knew he wasn’t going to get anything intelligible out of him for the next ten minutes or so.

“So, I had a nice relaxing day,” Aza said absently, pressing his thumb into a particularly bad knot. Aymeric muffled a groan, “I read some of your books. You have good tastes.”

“Mm?”

“Yup, I read the Miqo’te Huntress one, with R’shaalyo. Just got up to the part where she’s about to ride Hauvax to happiness, if you know what I mean.”

“Mmhm.”

“Erotic literature…” Aza couldn’t keep the note of laughter out of his voice, “I wouldn’t have pegged you for it, though I should’ve. You’re very dirty-minded and lusty when you want to be.”

Aymeric didn’t protest – it was _true_ , after all. No one would think it looking at the well-mannered and dignified Ser Aymeric, but gods, in the bedroom he was like a fiend. Not that Aza was complaining. It was nice to have a partner who wasn’t shy about his wants and followed through with a bold sort of confidence… and skill. Definitely a lot of skill there. Thank whoever Aymeric got down and dirty with in his earlier years for imparting such important life skills onto him.

“I might borrow a few off you, if you don’t mind?” he continued, kneading down more firmly and smirking when it drew a very pleasing noise from Aymeric, “Oh, you are _tense_. What have you been doing, shoulder-pressing the cannons?”

“Mm, no…” Aymeric murmured into his arms, practically purred, really, and it was _adorable_. Not quite a proper Miqo’te purr, but it was enough to make Aza smile like an idiot.

“Well, whatever you’ve been doing, it’s made you all knotted up,” he said, pressing right into a knot. Aymeric wriggled a little under him, muscles tensing up a little more. Aza immediately eased up a fraction, “Oh, sorry, was that too hard?”

“No,” Aymeric relaxed again, letting out a short little sigh, “That was… just right. Please do that again.”

“M’kay,” Aza pressed his thumb right into the knot, rubbing tight circles until he felt it ease up. Little by little, Aymeric relaxed under him, and soon Aza was smoothing his hands up and down back, shamelessly enjoying the feel of well-toned muscle under his palms.

Aymeric was nicely put together, Aza mused, pressing his thumbs into the little dip of his lower back and gently kneading the muscle there. He was muscular but nicely toned, and it complemented his slender frame so well. It was best when seeing him in action, though – oh, yes, in the rare few times he’s seen him spar or fight, watching him gracefully and fluidly move through the battlefield… people forgot, nowadays, because he was in a more bureaucratic role, but Aymeric was a _very_ skilled fighter. Enough to make Aza break a sweat whenever they sparred.

He wasn’t all that scarred either. Aza let his thumb brush over a very pale, thin scar that swept away from Aymeric’s spine in a sloping curve. It looked far too neat to be from a battle wound, and he felt Aymeric shiver beneath him as he gently rubbed it. Probably one of the few lingering marks from his ‘thorough questioning’ in the Vault.

Aza squashed that train of thought before it could bring his good mood down, smoothing his hands up along Aymeric’s back so he could give his shoulders a nice squeeze, “I bet this is because you hunch over your desk so much. I would’ve thought a man of your standing would have better posture.”

“You shouldn’t throw stones in glass houses, Aza,” Aymeric mumbled sleepily into his crossed arms, “You always complain about back pain.”

“That’s because I swing around fifty-five ponze worth of metal all day,” Aza sniffed, “As well as acting as a striking dummy for every monster and Primal to cross my path. It’s a miracle I’m not an invalid yet.”

He was certainly beginning to feel his age nowadays. Thirty-three was still within the range of peak physical condition, but goodness, he put his body through so much abuse he forgot what it felt like to be completely absent of pain. His knees ached, his back hurt, he had to remember to bind his left ankle if he was going for a long jaunt because it never quite recovered after he snapped it completely in half that one time, and he had reduced range in his right hip because of previous injury that _always_ made him limp in cold weather, etcetera, etcetera… 

…geeze. He was making himself sound like an old man.

“I suppose not,” he could practically _feel_ Aymeric’s smile when he added, “Just slightly creaky right now.”

“I don’t _creak_!” Aza huffed, “I just… it only happens in the mornings!”

“And the evenings, and whenever you stretch, and if you bend over…” Aymeric chuckled into his crossed arms, “It makes me nervous that you’ll slip a disc one day.”

“I’ll slip _your_ disc…” Aza grumbled, though he did have to concede the point, “But there’s not much I can do about it. My body’s a wreck, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t say that,” Aymeric said, “Weathered and rugged, perhaps, but not wrecked.”

“That’s just the polite way of saying it,” Aza smiled wryly, sitting back on Aymeric’s thighs and letting his hands rest in the dip of his lower back. His gaze trailed over his own bared arm, seeing the old scars from a lifetime of fighting littering the tanned skin. He didn’t find them anything to be ashamed of but… well, he was aware that they were off-putting to most people.

“But I know you have peculiar tastes,” he continued, making his tone light.

“Peculiar… mm, you certainly are that,” Aymeric sighed, before shifting his weight to the side just so. Getting the hint, Aza lifted himself up slightly, letting Aymeric roll over under him.

“That was blunt,” Aza said, sitting back down on Aymeric’s thighs, leaning forwards until he was sprawled over the taller man’s chest, feeling that taut body press up against his in a pleasing line of heat. He felt Aymeric’s hands smooth over his sides, following the curve of the waist to his hips.

“But peculiar isn’t bad,” Aymeric added, giving Aza a smile that was – very fond and warm and made his stomach flutter oddly. Aza felt his face warm and he glanced away to the slope of Aymeric’s shoulder instead. There was a very pale scar there, faded with time – but Aza instantly recognised it as the remains of a wild swipe from some clawed creature, most likely a dragon.

“I’m literally more scar tissue than man, at this point,” Aza pointed out wryly – and squeaked when, without warning, Aymeric abruptly rolled them over and pressed him into the mattress, “Oof! A little more warning!”

“Hmm, I would’ve thought the Echo would have warned you?” Aymeric said cheekily, bracketing him in with his arms and leaning in close – so close that Aza instinctively tilted his head, lips parting slightly in anticipation of a kiss; and whining when instead Aymeric ducked his head lower to kiss his jawline instead, lazily and warm.

“Mmn… doesn’t work like that,” Aza muttered absently, shivering when he felt Aymeric’s hands slowly roam his body, fingers tracing old scars over his stomach and chest, feather-light and almost ticklish. “Aymeric…”

“If people find your body wrecked or undesirable…” Aymeric murmured, pushing down lower, his mouth brushing over the pulse-point at his throat. Aza swallowed reflexively, tilting his head back farther, “Then they’re fools. But,” a sharp nip, one that made Aza gasp and his toes curl, “I’m grateful for it. Their loss is my gain.”

Aza was fairly certain he was bright-red at this point – he couldn’t help but blush whenever Aymeric said those straight-forward words. He murmured such adoring praise to him and it both delighted and embarrassed him in equal measure. It was an oddly intoxicating yet agonising feeling to endure.

“You are a shameless sap,” Aza managed to say, his voice a little uneven and breathless as Aymeric slowly, torturously slowly, trailed a line down his throat, over his collarbone, along his pecs to… oh- his breathing stuttered, fingers curling into his thick hair as Aymeric’s mouth relentlessly teased and nipped at a dusky nipple, “A-And a… s-scoundrel…”

“Mm…” Aymeric didn’t sound ashamed in the slightly, sounding far too pleased with himself as he drove Aza to the edge of _madness_. He granted him mercy, though, moving away after several long, tortuously sweet, moments, moving down, down… following the line of a smooth, sharp scar that cut diagonally over his stomach. It tingled at the touch.

Aza pressed his head back against the pillow, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling as he shakily stroked his fingers through Aymeric’s hair, his other hand fisted tight in the sheets beneath him. Every brush of Aymeric’s lips over his skin made him tremble, his abs tightening and something warm clenching low in his belly. The sheer reverence Aymeric delivered to his scars made him feel hot and restless, bewildered that someone like Aymeric – who was handsome and kind and could have whoever he desired in Ishgard if he so wished – would find them something to marvel over. Peculiar tastes indeed.

Aymeric paused at his navel, thumb rubbing gently over the front of his breeches. “Aza?”

“Yes,” Aza murmured without hesitation, arching his lower back and giving his hips a tiny, inviting buck.

Deftly, Aymeric undid his breeches but didn’t hurry onwards. Instead he focused on mapping out the firm lines of his abdominals with his mouth, gently teasing at any scars that crossed over them. It made Aza squirm, heels slowly pressing and grinding into the bed with a restlessness he couldn’t quite control, letting his eyes slide closed.

His breeches and underclothes were tugged down low on his hips, and Aza swallowed a noise when Aymeric gently nuzzled down the trail of hair leading down from his navel, his strong hands pressing down on his hips, holding him in place and then-

“ _Fuck_ -!”

Aymeric boldly wrapped his lips around his cock without so much as a shred of hesitation.

“Mn…” Aza struggled to keep his fingers relaxed in Aymeric’s hair, focusing on stroking, stroking, stroking, keeping them moving so he didn’t clench like he wanted to, his other hand keeping a white-knuckled grip on the bedsheet beneath him. Aymeric’s mouth was hot and perfect and- fuck. He exhaled shakily, his heart hammering against his ribs as slowly, by gentle increments, Aymeric dipped his head lower and lower and lower…

So slow, but so _good_. Aza panted hard, a low, shamelessly loud moan pulling itself deep from his throat when Aymeric abruptly pulled back to the very tip, his warm tongue dragging over the slit and- fucking-

“A-Aym… Aymeric…” Aza groaned, daring to open his eyes and look down and – oh, Gods, that sight should be fucking _illegal_. Aymeric’s head between his legs, gently bobbing down, taking him whole in his mouth again- fucking. Aza quickly squeezed his eyes shut, tossing his head back as he felt- felt his cock hit the back of Aymeric’s throat and he _swallowed_ and- oh.

Fiend, he thought feverishly, Aymeric had no business being able to deep-throat like a champ. His fingers curled tight into that soft hair, hips beginning to rock as Aymeric’s hold began to relax, coaxing him into a rhythm that met the careful bobs of his head. It was fantastic – amazing – and Aza could only focus on that; Aymeric’s hot mouth, the drag of lips against his cock, the pressure when he swallowed – the heat building and clenching low and tight and-

Aymeric _purred_ , flattening his tongue against the underside of his cock and- fucking _Twelve_!

“ _Fuck_ … I-I’m…” Aza choked out, not even ashamed at how quickly his arousal started to hit its peak, grinding his heels hard into the bed as his hips jerked in short, controlled yet frantic little thrusts, Aymeric’s hands tight around them, “Can’t- I-I need…!”

He couldn’t finish. With a cry that would most _definitely_ be heard from outside the room, Aza hit his peak hard. His back arched as he whined low, pleasure blossoming as this lovely white-hot thrum that made him see stars, a pleasure that was drawn out wonderfully by Aymeric’s mouth swallowing and swallowing and- oh, fuck, he just-

“S-Sorry,” he panted dazedly, combing his fingers clumsily through his hair when he realised he gave little to no warning about that. But, as usual, Aymeric took it like a champ, giving him one last, firm suckle before lifting his head with an obscene, wet noise, lips reddened and plump with a smudge of cum on the corner of his mouth and by the Gods fuck him right now.

“It’s alright,” Aymeric murmured huskily, his voice sounding wrecked but _lovely_. He licked his lips, catching that smudge of cum, and then moved in slow, predatory movements, up along his body until they were practically nose to nose. Aza tilted his head in anticipation, barely able to focus from his wits throwing themselves into the wind.

“I want- mmn…” Aza’s drowsy purr was cut off from Aymeric’s mouth meeting his – bitter. He groaned when he tasted himself on Aymeric’s tongue, “Mnff…”

Aymeric chuckled, a low rumble that made Aza shiver all over to hear, and pulled away, his hand running feather-light up and down his side, “You want…?” he prompted.

“Forgot,” Aza mumbled stupidly, still entranced by the wonderful quality of Aymeric’s rough voice, and curled his fingers against the nape of his neck, applying light pressure, “Mn, actually, kisses. More of those.”

“Easily done,” Aymeric hummed, leaning in and doing just that. They were sweet, slow kisses, though, and Aza found himself lingering in that pleasant boundary between sated and drowsy. Not that he’d actually fall asleep mid-kiss with Aymeric, but it was a pretty close thing.

“Aza…” Aymeric said against his mouth, before pulling away and kissing his forehead instead, “Go to sleep.”

“Mm…” Aza blinked up at him sleepily, “Y’sure?”

“Very,” Aymeric pulled away, and Aza grunted when he felt him pull at his breeches and underclothes, tugging them off his legs and discarding them somewhere out of view, “I’ll do the same in a moment.”

“Hmm…” Aza watched with hooded eyes as Aymeric slid off the bed before deciding to do as he was told. Lazily, he tugged at the bed covers, managing to somehow wriggle his way underneath them and curl up, making himself comfortable.

He must’ve dozed off, because what felt like only a few seconds later, he stirred awake when he felt the mattress dip and the bed covers lift, Aymeric easily sliding in behind him and curling around him. Aza flicked his tail, letting it rest comfortably over Aymeric’s leg.

“Sorry,” Aymeric murmured against his hair, his arm resting over his side, fingers tracing the lines of the scar Zenos gave him over his stomach, “Go back to sleep.”

“Mm…” Aza purred, settling down instantly. Distantly, he considered that if this was what a day of relaxation brought him, he should indulge more often.

A lot more often.

**Author's Note:**

> Well after that angsty oneshot I wanted to write something fluffy and smutty so here we are. 
> 
> Open to prompts and please kudos/comment if you liked!


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